Well, thanks. It's probably less difficult to take an even-handed approach when one is on the scene and talks to people who live through every day what we pontificate about from a safe distance. I suppose my piece is an argument for the benefits of old-fashioned cultural exchange.

The Jewish Israeli counterpart to the driver was the guy who wrote these guest posts about the history of crime fiction Israel. He also had some eye-opening things to say. If I wrote about him, I'd feel I was going on the record with a private conversation. It was different with the driver because I didn't (and still don't) know his real name, which made it seem less like I was violating any kind of confidence.

One of my very highly esteemed professors and his wife spent a fair amount of time in that region. They were both British Catholics. They decided that if they ever found themselves leaning toward one side or the other in this complicated situation then it was time for them to leave. I thought that was a good test, as I'm sure objectivity is hard to come by when human lives are at stake.

"Well, they were there connected to a community specifically dedicated to peace in the region, so they may not have leaned as much as you might think."

That's the sharpest and most thought-provoking sentence I'll read today. It reminds me a bit of my disgust with the Quaker banners one would sometimes see around Philadelphia that said something like: "There is no way to peace, peace is the way."

Thought-provoking or not, I'm a bit disconcerted by how little I remember about what they were actually doing there.

I do remember one story. My professor was a runner, and he was out running somewhere in Israel, and of course getting very hot and thirsty. As he came over a hill, he passed a Palestianian Arab, and as he ran by the man handed him some raisins. He said that hospitality was so ingrained in the culture that the man had been able to offer this welcome gift instantaneously, without needing time to think about it.

Well, hospitality is a proverbial quality among Arabs. The phrase "God bless your hands" to one who has served you coffee suggests a premium placed on hospitality, though I found it worked just as well when one has been served breakfast or wine.

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About Me

This blog is a proud winner of the 2009 Spinetingler Award for special services to the industry and its blogkeeper a proud former guest on Wisconsin Public Radio's Here on Earth. In civilian life I'm a copy editor in Philadelphia. When not reading crime fiction, I like to read history. When doing neither, I like to travel. When doing none of the above, I like listening to music or playing it, the latter rarely and badly.
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